


34. Ryan helps Sam through first-day jitters, part two

by alley_oops, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Sam Worthington and Ryan Kwanten [34]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-03
Updated: 2008-11-03
Packaged: 2018-01-14 22:54:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1281766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alley_oops/pseuds/alley_oops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica





	34. Ryan helps Sam through first-day jitters, part two

_**Ryan Kwanten and Sam Worthington: First-day jitters, Part 2**_  
[current; directly follows [this](http://www.journalfen.net/users/kwanten/7979.html)]

Sam follows Ryan into the kitchen, taking a seat on one of the stools in front of the island. His eyes locked on his boy's every move.

"Oh god, you're going to _watch_ me?" Ryan says, laughing a little, but before Sam can say anything Ryan answers his own question. "Of course you're going to watch me. What's the point otherwise?" It kind of makes his skin crawl, though. He focuses on his movements to distract himself, bending over at the waist when he opens the refrigerator, feeling the plug rub inside him.

  
Sam grins. "Am I really freaking you out?" he asks, not stopping for a moment despite the question.

"Kind of," Ryan answers, reaching more than he has to in order to fetch down a frying pan. "Yes." His back is turned, but he can _feel_ Sam watching him.

"Why's that?" Sam asks, genuinely interested and more than a little surprised. "You're fucking gorgeous."

Ryan glances at Sam over his shoulder, then shrugs. "I feel awkward. And you're the actor, not me. I'm not used to having people stare at me."

"I'm not people though," Sam says with a smile. "I'm your sir."

Biting his lip on a grin, Ryan nods. Sam can get away with pretty much anything just for saying those words. So as he fries up bacon and eggs, Ryan takes care to dispel with his usual efficiency of movement. Instead he moves elaborately, putting on a show, keenly aware that his body is on display. And when the huge plug rubs against his sweet spot, he groans softly.

Sam stops watching quite so avidly as dinner nears being ready. Ryan may be his boy but he's definitely not his slave and if he's cooking, Sam sets the table. Of course that doesn't stop him from brushing against Ryan as he moves by, reaching for the plates and the cutlery.

The casual touches nearly make Ryan whimper, and he tenses up instantly. His cock trying to harden, but met with cruel plastic. He brings their sizzling dinner to the table, sliding a large portion onto Sam's plate before he serves himself. Trying to think of a topic of conversation which will distract him from himself. "So, what time do you have to be there tomorrow?"

"Five." Sam makes a face, glancing at the clock above the stove. "Which means I won't be up for too long tonight." Breaking into a grin again as he adds, "I'm getting old. I can't party all night and head into work like I used to."

"Yeah, you're ancient and doddering," Ryan says with a grin, shaking his head. He grabs them a couple bottles of cold water and takes his seat. "I bet you'll sleep well tonight." He's pretty sure he took care of that part.

"I'm sure I will," Sam agrees, digging into his dinner. The end of his fork pointed at Ryan. "No slouching." He wants Ryan feeling that plug, wants his cock trying to get hard every fucking second.

The reminder comes just in time, as Ryan was about to relax. Instead his spine snaps ramrod straight, and of course the movement drags another groan from his lips. Sitting with the plug in is no small feat, and it puts constant pressure on his prostate. He picks at his food, too distracted to dig in with his usual appetite.

Sam watches Ryan in between bites, his cock slowly showing interest again in doing more. "Did your sir, before... did he ever punish you?" he asks, unsure whether it bothers Ryan to talk about it and if he's overstepping bounds by asking.

"Sure." Ryan shrugs, fairly comfortable with the topic. "I fucked up all the time. Didn't have the self-control then that I have now, ha." His mouth twists wryly; this afternoon there were definitely extenuating circumstances, even though it's no excuse. "I slept on the floor at the foot of the bed once, but he hated it so much it never happened again. Mostly he'd punish me by telling me I couldn't touch him for a certain period of time, and I had to do weird chores. Like, once I scrubbed the bathroom floor with a toothbrush, wearing a thong bikini and high heels. That kind of thing."

Sam laughs. "Really?" He shakes his head, the image seared into his brain. "I don't think I'll be making you do any chores and I definitely don't want you sleeping on the floor. Do you think this'll work at all to deter you from coming like you did?"

Ryan considers. "Usually? Yeah." He takes a deep breath. "When I've got my tongue up your ass? I don't... I don't know," he says honestly, a sheepish expression on his face. "I mean, I didn't even mean to. I was just so turned on... it just happened."

Sam grins. "I'm probably not supposed to say this but that's incredibly fucking hot."

Ryan breathes out a smile, relaxing a little. Of course the shift snaps him back to his senses and he sits up straight again in an instant, wincing a little in frustration. And wiggling just a bit.

"And so's that," Sam adds, his jeans tightening again as he watches Ryan shift and wiggle. "Keep it up and I'll have to fuck you. With that on," he clarifies.

Freezing, Ryan stares at him. _Fuck!_ "Yes, Sir," he mumbles, trying to keep still. But of course it's not long before he forgets and shifts again, trying to find a spot where the plug isn't fucking driving him mad.

Sam's finished his dinner by this time. "Are you going to eat anymore?" he asks, so fucking hard it's a wonder he can get the words out. Aching at the thought of fucking Ryan with him unable to get hard at all.

Ryan's busy making tracks in bacon grease with his fork. "Huh? Oh. No," he says, getting to his feet to clear the table.

Sam helps with the rest of plates, arranging everything in the dishwasher the way he knows Ryan likes it. There's only a few dishes to wash by hand and he picks up a towel, drying them and putting them away as Ryan hands them over. "You think you'll be able to keep from wanking?" he asks. "When I don't have you in that?"

The question catches Ryan off guard and he groans at a sudden spike of lust in his trapped cock. "Yes, Sir," he murmurs, eyeing Sam sidelong. "I'll control myself."

"Good, because I'd hate to have to keep you in it all the time," Sam says, hiding a smile behind a yawn.

"You'd hate it? _I'd_ hate it. And I need to be able to get hard when I'm writing, or it'll mess me up," Ryan confides. Realizing as he says it how weird it sounds.

"Seriously?" Sam cocks his head at Ryan. "You get hard when you're writing?"

"Sometimes." Ryan leans back against the counter, then remembers himself and stands up straight. "It can be part of the process for me. You know, I get really deeply involved and excited, and all the blood starts flowing faster, and..." he shrugs, flushing. "I get hard when I surf sometimes, too." He's like a teenager, he knows.

"And here I thought I was the one with the raging libido," Sam teases, backing Ryan against the counter.

"Oh, please. You've met me," Ryan scoffs, trying to cover for the way Sam affects him. Even right now, when impulses start firing, lust starts flowing, and his damn cock stays soft.

Sam laughs and places a hand between them, flat against Ryan's stomach. "Yeah, I have," he says, sliding his hand upward, fingers trailing over Ryan's nipples, and back down, over the smooth skin he hasn't marked in a while. "You haven't asked me to cut you," he murmurs.

Startled, Ryan realizes that he's right. "I... I guess I haven't needed you to. We've been so busy with other things," he says softly, shivering at Sam's gentle caress. "You've given me all the attention I need." But now that Sam has reminded him, of course the craving rears its head.

"I'm glad to hear it," Sam whispers, leaning in, brushing his lips across Ryan's. "Of course, there's other ways to make you bleed."

Ryan whimpers and clutches at Sam's hips. He flexes around the plug, streaks of fire shooting through him. God, he'd be so hard right now in an instant, if only he could be. "Yes, Sir," he whispers, barely voicing the words.

"Tomorrow night. I want you to shower before I come home and you're not to prep after," Sam whispers, nibbling at Ryan's mouth and twisting his bottom lip between his teeth.

Excitement floods Ryan and he shudders, jerking Sam in tighter against him. "Yes, Sir," he whispers against his lover's mouth. "No cage?"

Sam smiles. "No cage." Smile sliding into a grin as he kisses his way down Ryan's throat. "And permission from the get-go."

Ryan melts, nearly boneless. Except for that _thing_ Sam is doing, lighting him up. He moans softly, his hands moving restlessly under Sam's shirt, up his back. Rubbing against him even though it's futile.

Christ. Sam licks and sucks and bites at Ryan's throat, nibbling on his boy until he's aching so badly he can barely breathe. And then he looks around, checking out the various surfaces. "I want you on your back on the table," he says, certain it's strong enough to hold both of them.

Ryan feels like he could cry with frustration already, tight and throbbing around the huge plug. His throat is one of his weak spots and Sam knows it, damn it. Looking over the freshly-cleared table, he carefully lies down, slowly letting it take his full weight. The look in Sam's eye only makes his heart race faster.

Moving in front of him, Sam arranges Ryan just so, his feet on the edge of the table, his legs spread, hole visible, stretched around the plug, and cock soft against his stomach, trapped by the cage. He tugs his shirt over his head and drops his jeans, giving himself a couple of rough strokes, his eyes locked on the sight in front of him.

"Jesus Christ, Sir," Ryan breathes, watching him avidly. Sam is hot when he does the laundry, but right now, like this, he's fucking scorching. And Ryan's aching to be fucked, familiar impulses kicking in despite the bloody cage. "Please."

"Please?" Sam grins, reaching for the plug and slowly twisting it out of Ryan's hole. "Please what?" He wants the words.

Ryan groans, the sound drawn out of him like a whine right alongside the plug. "Please fuck me, Sir!"

"What? With this?" Sam teases, shoving the plug back into Ryan's hole, as hard and as deep as he can.

"Fuck!" Ryan shouts, arching off the table. Christ, if he were hard then Sam could fuck him with that all day long. As it is, though... "Please give me your cock. Please!"

Relenting, Sam pulls the plug completely free and drops it to the floor. Takes his cock in hand and lines up, slowly feeding the swollen length into Ryan's still gaping hole, his lover's body slowly clamping back down around him.

"Oh jesus. Jesus. Fuck," Ryan breathes, rocking his hips. It's not enough, not yet, and at the same time it's everything he needs. He grips the edges of the table tightly, trying to stay steady for Sam when he just wants to grab him and yank him down.

"You are so fucking hot," Sam murmurs, pushing deep and then pulling all the way out, right to the tip, before slamming back in. His hands on Ryan's knees, keeping him spread open.

Ryan whimpers, a keening sound. He clamps down when Sam thrusts in, and his caged cock bobs uselessly. He doesn't care. He just needs more.

"You want it, don't you?" Sam murmurs, fucking Ryan harder, his speed slowly increasing. "Even though you know you're not gonna be allowed to come."

"Yes, Sir," Ryan gasps, swallowing around a hard lump in his throat. He scrabbles at the table's edges, gripping white-knuckled. "I want you to fuck me. Take me." He rocks with Sam's movements, locking his ankles behind Sam's back. "Use me."

Grasping Ryan's thighs in his hands, Sam lets go. Slams into him harder and harder, battering his hole with his cock and holding nothing back.

It's amazing. It hurts like fucking hell but the raw power in Sam's body makes Ryan cry out, overwhelmed with frustrated lust. "Please," he gasps, not even sure what he's begging for anymore. He grits his teeth and his head swims. "Please!"

Sam ignores the pleas. He's already said the cage isn't coming off until bed and there's nothing else to give Ryan. Nothing but his own orgasm. Which he's speeding towards, fucking Ryan still harder, the table starting to move across the floor.

Ryan yells, arching his back. His body is on fucking fire, every slam of Sam's cock surely bruising nerve endings. "Sir!"

God. _God._ Sam slams in again, so fucking hard his vision goes white with it, his climax crashing over him, cock pulsing, throbbing again and again with each ragged spurt.

Ryan sobs out a breath, relieved and dizzy. Even the wash of Sam's come hurts, searing tender flesh. He rocks his hips a few more times, still _trying_ to get hard, fuck. Then his body finally surrenders and he breathlessly lets go of the table, reaching for his lover.

Sam lets Ryan pull him down, kissing him softly again and again, his lover's face cupped between his hands.

"You're crazy," Ryan teases in a whisper, grinning slightly in between kisses. "I think I love you."

"And I _know_ I love you," Sam whispers back, still somewhat in awe of his own feelings.

* * *

The cock cage is a heavy weight by evening's end, and Ryan couldn't be happier that he's only being punished for one night. He keeps expecting Sam to come take it off at any moment, but it's starting to seem like Sam's going to drag things out until the last possible second -- midnight, anyone? On the couch with a book, Ryan restlessly shifts position yet again, grateful that at least he's not still wearing the plug.

Closing down his laptop for the night, Sam sticks his head into the living room, smiling at the sight of Ryan stretched out on the couch. "That's it for me," he says. "I'm crashing. Are you coming or are you gonna be up for a while?"

"I'm coming." The words aren't even out before Ryan's off the couch. He takes Sam's hands in his and kisses him soundly, naked body pressed against Sam's clothed one.

"That doesn't seem like a bedtime kiss," Sam murmurs, chuckling as he tugs Ryan into the bedroom.

"Yeah, yeah," Ryan mutters, smiling. He follows Sam eagerly, but then he always does. "You found me out. I just like kissing you." He sits down on the bed, leaning back on his elbows.

Sam laughs and goes to his knees in front of Ryan, reaching for the cage. "Ready for this to come off?"

"Oh god yes," Ryan groans, his gut twisting with excitement.

Grinning, Sam breaks the lock and eases the rest of the cage off, the various pieces dumped on the bedside table. "There. Better?"

Ryan lets out a sigh of relief, tipping his head back. "Thank you." And of course instantly his traitorous cock starts to fill and swell, simply because it _can_. "Fuck."

Sam laughs. "Surely you knew there was a reason I was down here on my knees," he murmurs, kneeling up and leaning in, his tongue run from the base to the tip.

"Ohhh, fuck," Ryan moans, his eyes slipping shut in ecstasy. "I was hoping." He didn't dare assume, though, damn. Sam on his knees is... _damn_.

And again, one long line from root to tip, before taking the head into his mouth, sucking gently, his tongue probing the slit.

Hazy already, Ryan lifts his head to watch. He's fully hard now, and Sam's seeking tongue finds a pearl of precome. Ryan shudders, a wave of lust rolling through him.

Sam pulls off just long enough to tell Ryan, "You have permission, by the way," before he takes him back in, relaxing his throat muscles enough to take him deep and then deeper, before bobbing up and starting all over again.

Slowly Ryan's groans melt into whimpers, the gentle rocking of his hips steadying into something more urgent. More demanding. He fucks into Sam's mouth and nearly begs for mercy, hours in the cage having left their mark.

Tamping down his gag reflex, Sam takes Ryan deep into his throat on the next drop, deeper than he's ever taken anyone. _Come on,_ he urges, eyes starting to water.

Ryan looks down at Sam, mouth wet and stretched around his cock, and it's all over. He bucks once and shoots hard, washing Sam's throat with come and shouting obscenities at the ceiling.

Struggling to swallow every last drop, Sam almost chokes, wiping the corners of his mouth as he pulls off and sits back a little, grinning up at Ryan. "I need to brush up on my cock-sucking skills."

Breathing hard, Ryan can only stare at him for a long moment. "I can help you with that," he eventually manages to say. In theory, anyway; right now he feels like he might never get hard again.

Sam laughs, rising to his feet and undressing. "I'm sure you can," he says, climbing into bed beside Ryan and pulling the covers up over them both, Ryan tugged in close to his chest. "Thank you," he whispers, pressing a kiss to Ryan's temple.

"For what?" Ryan wraps his arms around Sam and settles in against the warmth of his lover's body. If anything, Sam surely has it backwards, Ryan figures.

"For distracting me," Sam says softly. "I can't remember the last time I had a decent evening before a shoot where I wasn't pissed off my face."

Ahh, that. Ryan strokes a lock of hair off Sam's forehead. "Score one for a healthier lifestyle," he murmurs, and kisses Sam gently. "You're going to be amazing."

Maybe. Sam still can't seem to shake all his bad feelings but at least they're firmly in the background at the moment. "Are you gonna visit me on set at some point?"

Ryan's eyebrows rise. "You want me to?" he asks, startled. "I mean, yes, I'd love to. You're okay with that?"

"Yeah. You'll have to be just one of my mates. Down here to do some surfing, hang out, drink..." Sam grins. "Good ol' boy shit. But some of my other mates'll probably stop in at some point so there shouldn't be any questions."

"Perfect." Ryan grins. "I can do that." His fingers rub small circles on Sam's nape. "I'm looking forward to meeting them, too. Just so long as they're not all hot like you. I can't handle that," Ryan says plaintively.

"Nah. Only a couple of them," Sam says with a bit of a smirk. "And of course, none of them are _as_ hot as me." Eyes sparkling.

"Naturally not." Ryan grins and licks Sam's bottom lip. "Any of them kinky? Bi, anything? Do they have a clue about you?"

"No one's kinky," Sam says. "Dave is bi. He and Scott both know. And the rest are all straight as a fucking level." He shifts some, pressing closer again, his leg pushing between Ryan's thighs. "I've known most of them since school and the others I met when I was working construction."

Ryan nods, thinking about it. _Oh shit_. "I bet they're not soft around the edges like you are," he teases, sliding his hand down to rest on Sam's ass. "Only my best friend from back home knows I'm gay. Everyone else... well, we don't really keep in touch anyway, but I wouldn't tell them."

Sam rolls his eyes at the teasing but nods. "Yeah. I don't know. My mates are my mates but honestly? Other than Dave and Scott, I don't trust a single one of them not to sell their story to the highest bidder if they found out."

"Won't let'em, then," Ryan agrees softly. He's not sure how he'd live with himself if he ruined Sam's career, even inadvertently. "My mum's dying to meet you, though. You let me know when you think you're ready for that."

"Is she gonna ask me if I plan to make an honest man out of you?" Sam teases. "Or give her grandkids?"

Ryan hesitates, smiling ruefully. "I can't guarantee she won't," he says after a moment, in all seriousness. "Especially about the grandkids, because my brothers aren't showing any signs of coughing them up either. That's why I'm saying... I mean it, I don't want you dealing with her before you feel ready."

"Okay." Sam nods. "Give me some time to get settled in with this shoot first and then we'll go over some weekend." It's on the tip of his tongue to ask Ryan if that's what he wants. Marriage. Kids. But he doesn't think he's ready to go there yet. To hear Ryan say he wants things Sam doesn't think he can give. Not now. But maybe not ever either. "Love you," he whispers, pulling Ryan in still closer, reminding himself that all that matters is the here and now.

Smiling, Ryan nuzzles Sam's neck. "I don't think I'll ever get used to hearing you say that. I love you."

"I sure as hell hope not," Sam says, yawning a little, finally ready to crash. "I wouldn't want us to ever take each other for granted," he mumbles, snuggling in.

"No." Ryan smiles, tenderly stroking the hair off Sam's forehead. He loves these moments, no barriers of embarrassment or pretense or even lust between them. "Don't worry."  



End file.
